My Godmother’s name was Candy. But, somehow, my crappy hearing turned Candy into Nana. So, for the rest of her years and in fond memory, she has remained Nana (na - na, not naa-naa). It made buying sappy Godmother cards at all the holidays real easy.
She was a geriatric nurse and my mom would call her every time I managed to get the slightest bump. Suffice it to say: Na was on the phone a lot.
I’ve been thinking a lot about these memories lately, since my daughter’s Godmother, in an interesting turn of events, is called Auntie Nana. There is not a direct correlation to doing this, it just sort of happened, but it’s a nice continuation of tradition - even if it wasn’t meant. Especially since my daughter’s middle name is the middle name of my Godmother.
Fun fact? My bestie up in MD, friends since 7th grade, Godmother to each other’s children, is a pediatrician. I bet you can see where this is going.
I call her. And send her pictures. Frequently.
“Hey, lady! Um, here’s this weird rash. Is it dangerous or just her eczema?”
“Hiiiiiii. She’s got a dry cough and a wee fever, nothing wild. Do I freak out now?” (To note: there was no freaking necessary - it was the onset of allergies - poor child appears to have mommy’s internal body and daddy’s external one)
“Oh, by the way, what’s up? How’s it going?” (This is when I’m done trying not to freak out about the weird stuff. I’m normally a pretty calm mom, but every so often, my kid likes to present with weird ish)
There’s nothing super silly to this story. Just some really fond memories and a sense of comfort that somehow the tradition has continued and my kid will have her Nana, just like I had mine.
(Fun fact: C left her lotion here during one of her weekend stays. Parks found it, smelled it, yelled, “Auntie Nana!!!” and proceeded to put some on. She now has to have some daily. More often than not, she mentions Auntie Nana while putting it on.)